A man in a sharp blue suit sleeps not a foot away from me. Vivian Max and I sit on a train to Taitung, a city in the southeast corner of Taiwan, from which we’ll depart tomorrow morning for the beautiful Green Island, a rocky pebble tossed and stuck in the massive Pacific somehow (there is something so frightening and impossible to me about little islands in big oceans). The man’s snoring is not as loud as some I’ve heard but it rattles so deep within him I feel it in my own bones. The man in front of us shoots his phlegm around from the back to the front of his throat, his neighbor sneezes, and the man two seats in front of Max hacks and coughs as though he will die before we get there. These morbid coughs are interrupted by lighthearted burps, the kind a person pops out for fun, or snot-rockets, so at least he’s enjoying his untimely death. Either I’ve been in masked Taipei too long or these exceptionally fluid-filled people go out of their way to maneuver the stuff around. Besides these sounds I hear the hums of the train and feel the rumble of train on track. A little girl with wild hair squeals and leaps around the floor of the train car like a frog while her grandpa chews on the beetle nut that puts a smell like celery or radishes in the air. As for the sights – not even phlegmy sounds or bitter smells could take away from such beauty.
We decided to take a slow train to Taitung because we are in no rush to get there and because it’s significantly cheaper (30 USD to go from the North of the island all the way down South and back again). The windows are tall and wide and through them we’ve seen mountains so tall we have to dip our heads to see the tops, the Pacific lapping sandy or garbagey shores, and mini-mountains growing out of the shore like the brown drippy castles I used to make on the beach with my mom. We’ve seen rickety towns and bigger towns like Hualien. It’s only 4:21 now but the sun’s already fading, blurring the faint distinction between blue sky and blue mountain, and the foggy air lends a hand in the merge. I saw the Pacific as a baby and from the edge of an expensive hill in San Fransisco a few months ago, but babiness or fascination with a pretty city prevented my being fascinated with something as big and cold-blue and far away from “home” as The Pacific! And there it is looking like a quilt of blue with ominous grayish patches, patches as aqua as my mom’s eyes, some a little more seaweed-green, and the rim the chilly color of sun fading behind clouds. I look so forward to the week we have to spend without even a slice of glass between us, getting to know each other’s blue moods. I want to be exhausted by it at the end of every day I spend on Green Island, red-faced and strung-out with wind and spray.
I’m already exhausted, but it’s a medication/four-year-old-children-induced kind of exhaustion. My legs are stiff with want to run faster and longer than it takes to catch up a baby in my arms. I will miss them though. I’ve spent some of every day in the past few months basking in their love. I’m sure this time away will remind me how lucky I am to have this job.
Vivian came just in time for Thanksgiving (the Wednesday before!) and spent the day with us at school before settling in at Kiah’s home for delicious turkey, potatoes, stuffing, green bean casserole (apparently it’s a Midwest staple?) and pumpkin pie. It is so good to have her here. It makes me feel a swirl of things - a little startled, mostly safe, and the world seems at once smaller and bigger. Smaller because here she is just like that (snap) and bigger because it doesn’t change to fact that the rest of my family is still so far away. She’ll stay through December and then we’ll find ourselves in another month. The thought makes me feel like I’ve been on a train this whole time with experiences flashing past so fast I can’t possibly catch sight of them all. For whatever reasons (I have some ideas) some things catch my eye and others don’t. I’ll never go on this ride again, though, so this is my only shot. I’m glad to have caught sight of the things I have and grateful for the time to send them through this portal to you. dddddddddddddd
Ghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Sssssssssssssssmmmmmmmmmmmvvmvvvmvmvvmvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvrvrvrrrrrrrrrrrrrrzzszzzzzzzzzzzzzzzppppppppppppppppppppphphhphhhhhhhyhhhhhhhhttthtthththffffftttytttttbbbbbbbhbbbbbbbbhbbbddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd1dd22222222222222233233233333333333333333333333333xx3x3xx3x3x3xxxdxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx……………..>>ddfhrdddddddddddjjjjjjjjjmmmmmmmmmbbgggggggggggggkkkkkkkgjfjygfkjyflkfglinhyxxxxxjjjjjjliiiiii,gffjhgljghng5ekjfkjyfkjhrooomjhhhhhghmnbvbgcawGGGGGGGggggggGGGgggggggggggggGGhgggGgGHgIGgggghgddddtssaaaaaassdfffffghjkl;;;;;;;;;;;;;’’
That’s a message from the girl with wild hair.
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